


Performances

by thalassashells



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Nonbinary Character, Other, brief mention of other major npcs but like, dancing and playing harps for nobles, fluffy nonsense, giftfic, im not clogging their tags they aint in it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 14:46:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10310597
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thalassashells/pseuds/thalassashells
Summary: Gabriel plays for an Ishgardian ball and it's terrible. Thankfully, someone came to watch.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jailedbard (twoheadedenby)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twoheadedenby/gifts).



> gift fic because i FELT LIKE IT *SHREDS ON MY LUTE*

Playing for the newly established Houses of Lords and Commons had been more daunting before Gabriel found out that the noble Ishgardian taste in music was bloody _boring._

It could not be more different than playing for a Gridanian crowd. Gridania’s wealthy elders hid their daggers among overly friendly words, luscious, jealousy inspiring offerings of the fruits of the Shroud. Most importantly, they hid among wild dancing to the light tones of harps, bells, and flutes. If all was well, you could not tell a party that hosted a meeting of lords from a party outside Mih Khetto’s Amphitheatre, except that the latter was sincere.

   What a fool they had been to assume Ishgardians would enjoy similar events. They were seated with a large harp on a raised stage overlooking a wide, lavish ballroom. Nobles in grand furs and dresses so wide they were likely to knock something over without the ever-watchful care of their wearers swayed upon the marble floors. Their hands may be linked in the simple dances, but a space remained between them that left them so stiff they may as well not be dancing with another person at all.

   Something about leaving room for Halone.

   Their conversations are quiet, hardly addressing anything at all beyond small talk. If things of importance were being discussed, Gabriel could not hear or parse their coded words, nor read their artfully plain expressions.

   In any case, all they had to do was pluck lazily at the strings to the sleepy, boring tune of some old Elezen composer whose name they hardly cared to try and remember. The pianist accompanying them seemed to be having even less fun.

   They gazed into the crowd, hopefully not too transparently, looking for any familiar faces. The obvious ones were there: Aymeric with the broadest smile of any who attended, Lucia by his side to ward off the inevitable effects of his hopeless luck, Hilda in the least extravagant suit of any, and Ysayle with Wallnund, dancing closer than any in the room.

   Then – a bit to the left of the main crowd, sitting stiff as a board at one of the many tables with his masked gaze trained up on the stage – they spot a familiar looking Au Ra. It’s enough of a surprise to flip them into a sour note that they quickly try to smooth over with an unplanned flourish before going back to the written notes, much to the pianist’s ire.

   It couldn’t really be him, right? He wouldn’t be fool enough to show himself in such polite company, even with his mask that could be nothing less than a hundred years old obscuring his eyes. His horns still curled around the edges and his hair still stuck up in random directions even though it seemed to be…differently combed than usual.

   Gabriel can’t be sure they’re not hallucinating. They flash an experimental grin at the masked figure, to let him know they’re watching.

   Ah, that did it. Sidurgu almost jumps in his seat before looking left and right to be sure Gabriel couldn’t possibly be smiling at someone else. Gabriel nods, as their hands occupied. Sidurgu gives an awkward wave, like he isn’t quite sure how apparent he should be in his movements.

   It stirred something warm in Gabriel, knowing that nobody else in the room knew why their playing had turned so much less mechanical, their eyes upon the crowd so warm. The pianist was going to kill them for their detours, but Sidurgu’s enraptured gaze was worth every one.

   He really had a way of making life seem like less of a chore.

   They wish any of the songs had lyrics, for how much they felt they needed to sing.

   --

   Finally, their turn on the stage ends. They take their bow alongside the pianist, who doesn’t even bother smiling for the crowd and shuffles backstage as soon as possible. Gabriel lingers a bit longer in the applause, and Wallnund’s unprofessional whistling.

   A host appears on stage and they take their cue to leave. Up next was some famous singer. Aymeric had really pulled out all the stops on this one.

   They’re quick to be out on the floor once everything is put away, weaving through the suffocating crowd of Elezen – they were all so tall, it was more of a forest – until they reached Sidurgu’s table. He looks up as though surprised that Gabriel would come find him.

   “Can I steal you away?” They ask, a bit too loudly for it to be romantic, but they had to be heard over the music on stage.  Sidurgu nods and takes their hand, and they drag him out to the nearest balcony.

\--

   “You were great in there.” Sidurgu says, peeling the old mask from his face now that there were none to see. It left some red lines where it had been digging into his skin, making him look as though he was still wearing some cartoonish eye covering.

   “Thank you, really, _truly_ , but why did it have to be _here_?” Gabriel balks, “I could play for you at home, where there aren’t a dozen temple knights?”

   Sidurgu lowers his head, “I just…I was…” He finishes his sentence in a mumble Gabriel can’t even hear in the still night outside the party.

   “You were what?” Gabriel says softly, reaching up to cup Sidurgu’s face, bringing their gazes back together.

   “I was happy for you. This is big, right? It seemed…important for me to be there.” He offers awkwardly.

   How the tables turn. Now Gabriel is casting their eyes to the side, their heart leaping halfway up their throat, “I suppose, yeah. Just a bunch of pompous nobles though, right? How could you stand being in there?”

   “How could you? The stench is hardly any less on stage.” Sidurgu’s voice grows sharp, and he smiles.

   “Right you are.” Gabriel laughs.

   Standing quietly together is fine enough, but another idea strikes them as a couple twirls past the doorway they had left through.

   “Say, they shouldn’t have all the fun, right?” Gabriel asks.

   Sidurgu furrows his brow, “You’re not looking to make a scene?”

   “No! No,” Gabriel shakes their head, and takes Sidurgu’s hands in his, sidling up against his chest, “Dance with me.”

   “That, I can do.” Sidurgu says, much to Gabriel’s surprise. He slides a hand down to settle on their waist, their tail twitching up to brush it, and they put their hand on his shoulder. They wonder if he can see them blushing in the darkness.

   They can certainly see that _he_ is.

   Sidurgu leads as confidently as anyone inside, the measured, purposeful movement he practiced in battle proving just as useful in dance. Gabriel keeps in time, only slipping once or twice just from the sheer difference in stride due to their heights.

   The only problem is that they cannot possibly get any closer. They want to press their face into the chest they know is warm and comfortable, feel the fabric of the ill-fitting suit he wore against their cheek, under their hands. That could come later, at least.

   “And here I thought I’d have to teach you.” They smirk.

   “I may not be a famed musician, but even I know something of the arts.”

   “Such a romantic.”

   Sidurgu kisses their head between their ears without ever breaking the swaying rhythm they had fallen into, guided only by the muddled remains of music that pierced the stone walls and their own carefully forged understanding of each other’s natural movements.

     The din inside is little but a dull roar from the balcony, the resulting muffled softness almost soothing. Gold light from the windows fading into the blue of the night, casting its orange glow on the grey stone below. It was like the real world continued to turn within, while they found respite in a small bubble of their own. A private space carved from the center of Ishgard

   They let time roll on without them, if only for the rest of the night.

  


End file.
